November 22 (5 a.m.)
I just woke up and can't go to sleep. I'm writing in the dark. (Which still doesn't explain my spelling).
It just occurred to me that you are a living abacus, a veritable calculator. Two up, three down, two up, one down. Does it add up to anything? No! Recalculate.
Sweet, funny, gentle, kind, unemployed. Next.
Sweet, funny, gentle, kind, unestablished. Next.
Handsome, producer, established, two kids, divorced, hmm, maybe, just maybe.
You are Spock's sister. Logical, precise, calculating. A mentat. Thufir Hawat come to haunt me.
(6:45 a.m.)
I don't know who you are.
(9:47 p.m.)
Your greatest favour has been to let me dream in your company. Thank you for having spit a little colour into my life.
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